History Behind the History
by the sacred night
Summary: impressions of a modern day student learning about the revolution and Battousai in history class. also contains flashbacks to the bakumatsu. complete.
1. Akitaka the HistoryHater

I don't own RK characters, so please don't sue me. I do own the characters I made up, of which only one is important anyhow.  
  
History Behind the History  
  
"Start reading chapter 13 tonight, we'll discuss the first part tomorrow," Mr. Higo added as the students collected their things to leave class for the day. Akitaka sighed and rolled his eyes- history was so boring, all dry dates and battles. He much preferred reading manga- now that could hold a person's attention.  
When he finally got home that afternoon, Akitaka started to do his math homework, then grammar, anything to avoid the dreaded history assignment. He even took out the garbage to delay it a bit. Finally, everything else done, the reading became unavoidable. Akitaka opened the book and saw the words 'The Road to Revolution' in bold across the page. Well, so that's what this chapter was about: a war. Goody. For several pages, the book droned on about Shinsengumi and Ishin Shishi, what battle was fought on what day over what city, blah, blah, blah, until he turned the page and saw a picture of a rather strange looking man. It was a short person, about Akitaka's own age, actually. He had bright red hair and yellow eyes. Weird. There was a big 'x' marked on the guy's face- Akitaka guessed that the same person who wrote 'Sakura loves Akira' in the margins had put it there, but why would they put it just on his cheek like that, and not over the whole picture, if they were going to deface it? Vandals came up with the weirdest stuff sometimes. The caption under the picture said it depicted an Imperialist hero known only as 'hitokiri Battousai'- apparently his real name had been lost and forgotten by the descendants of his beneficiaries. The picture was a composite sketch from descriptions given later, so obviously the famous assassin hadn't stood still long enough for anyone to paint his picture. That made sense- war heroes were pretty busy guys, what with overthrowing the government and all. Apparently, this Battousai person was pretty important to the revolution. In the book, what must be every battle he'd ever won was listed- none were listed that he lost. This was surprisingly fascinating to Akitaka the history-hater. He couldn't believe so much could hinge on one person. He read on, hoping for more information on the nameless man, but to no profit. He even read the entire chapter, but the manslayer was not mentioned again. Disappointed, Akitaka closed his book and went downstairs to eat dinner.  
The following day in class, there was a discussion, as promised. Akitaka remembered what he'd read the previous night and raised his hand.  
"Yes, Akitaka?" Mr. Higo said, pointing to him.  
"Could you tell us more about the hitokiri Battousai? There wasn't much in the book," Akitaka requested.  
"That is because not much is known. For someone so important to history, he didn't leave much evidence about his life except the impression he made on other people- which was mainly fear, if you weren't Ishin. It's been debated whether or not he even existed, especially since the things he's said to have done seem impossible based on our knowledge of technology at the time," Mr. Higo explained.  
"So he's just a myth?" Akitaka asked, utterly disappointed. The first time history gets interesting, it's not history at all, just a story.  
"I didn't say that, I said it's been debated. I personally think he must've been real," Mr. Higo corrected.  
"Why is that?"  
"Well, quite simply, the revolution would not have happened without him. It would've amounted to a few skirmishes and some dead Imperialists without hitokiri Battousai. You wouldn't be sitting in this class room right now learning, you'd be off fighting a war somewhere. Thankfully, Battousai did it for you, and at about your age, too."  
"But, sir, this man was just a cold-blooded killer! How could that be a good thing, no matter what the result?" A girl in the back piped up.  
"You're right, it isn't, but war forces things like this on people, and he did what I'm sure he thought he had to do," Mr. Higo replied. "Also, remember he wasn't just a killer, he was a person. No one can be summed up in one label, and Battousai was no different. He had a personal life, a family, dreams... we just don't know the details of them, is all."  
Akitaka's curiosity was really piqued, now. Just his luck it was about a subject on which virtually no information was at his disposal. Was this nameless hitokiri more than he seemed at first glance? Wasn't everybody? Didn't he deserve a second look?  
  
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*  
  
Alone in a tent on the outskirts of a noisy battlefield, Himura the Battousai sat on the floor. His arms were crossed and resting on his knees; his head rested on his arms. He just sat there hating everything going on around him. Being an assassin, not a soldier, he wasn't involved in the mass-battle going on now, but really he was a bigger part of the action than the men outside fighting currently were. How could he have ever gotten himself into this? He hadn't wanted it to be like this, had never expected it to be like this. Sure, when you become an assassin, you expect some killing, but this was... more... worse... more real... than he had ever thought it would be. He remembered when Shinta had buried the bodies of those who'd died around him, those who'd died trying to protect him along with those he'd needed protecting from. He'd shown respect for all the dead, not just those he'd known or loved. He barely knew Shinta anymore- now he was just the man-slaying assassin everybody wanted on their side. Apart from that, his name had been changed. Shinta no longer existed, only Kenshin. There was only Kenshin, who, far from showing respect to dead enemies, was now the reason they were dead. He mourned for them now, alone, after he'd been unable to keep from killing them. He had ensured that; he had come out and dealt with them himself. That nameless he was Kenshin's other self, the hitokiri everybody thought was his true personality. He came out when he had to- when the Ishin Shishi needed their dirty work done. Now Kenshin's hands were covered in blood from every time Battousai had allowed himself to be used as a weapon. He looked up, baring glistening violet eyes to the empty tent. No one else was allowed to see them; they had to turn a deep, honey amber when others were present, but they could show now that he was alone. This was his pathetic attempt to somehow atone for his wrongdoing- to sit here, alone, purple eyes brazenly visible, and mourn. He always did it, though it could never be enough. Nothing could. 


	2. His Own Wife?

ok, here it is, you asked for it. i hope my readers for 'baka deishi' don't get too mad that i posted this instead of the next chapter of that story. oh well, i like this story, it's beginning to get interesting.  
  
History Behind the History  
  
The bell rang, and once again, Akitaka stood up to leave history class. He was beginning to hate it again, since the one thing he's found interesting was buried so deeply you could barely tell it was there. He'd even gotten on the internet to try to find more information on Battousai, but the only sight that came up had to do with some manga he'd never heard of before. He had one more course of action, and if it failed, Akitaka the history-hater would be such again. He would go to the library and look in regular books for the information he sought, which was basically any information having to do with hitokiri Battousai. He was just walking out the classroom door when he heard his name.  
"Akitaka!" Mr. Higo called.  
"Yes, Mr. Higo?"  
"I have something you might be interested in," the teacher said, holding out a plain-looking book to Akitaka. "There's an article on Battousai on page 182, and since you mentioned him in class the other day I thought you might want to read it."  
"Thanks!" Akitaka breathed, delighted. He walked out of the classroom more quickly than usual, and tried to rush the frustratingly slow pace of the rest of the school day so he could get to the library, read the article, and hopefully find more.  
When Akitaka finally reached the library, it was completely empty of people except for a young woman standing behind a desk, who most likely worked there. He first sat down to read what he already had in his possession and flipped to page 182. There was a picture, and it had the same weird 'x' on it, in the same place. Either it was part of the picture or some Battousai-hating vandal had visited both his history book and this book and Mr. Higo hadn't bothered to erase it. Maybe it was the original picture that was defaced, so all the reprints had the same marks on them. That must be it. No, wait, this was a side view and the other was a front view, so they couldn't be reprints of the same picture. Akitaka didn't know what to think of that, so he started reading, beginning with the picture's caption. Hitokiri Battousai is seen here with his famous cross- shaped scar in full view, and sporting the navy blue uniform of the Ishin Shishi, the book said. So the 'x' was supposed to be there. He looked down the page and saw that this was less an article than a fact sheet. There were bullets, each with a phrase and a brief explanation. The cross- shaped scar- The cross-shaped scar is actually two scars. The longer one was received while performing an assassination, it explained. No surprises there, but it went on: the shorter one was received from his dying wife, Yukishiro Tomoe. What?! That was all? Akitaka scanned down the page for more on this Tomoe person. Yukishiro Tomoe- Yukishiro Tomoe was the maiden name of Battousai's wife, whom he himself killed. Conflicting information exists on this subject: some sources say that he was assigned to kill her and obeyed because he was so devoted to the Ishin Shishi, but others say that he was attempting to kill someone else and the blow mistakenly fell on Tomoe. Man, that was one serious assassin to kill his own wife. That was cold- he must've been totally emotionless, since surely the famed Battousai was too coordinated to land a death blow accidentally. If he was emotionless, though, why would he have been married in the first place? Akitaka was determined to find out the truth behind the title Battousai.  
  
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*  
  
Kenshin clawed his way up through the darkness to gain consciousness. Since the deed was done now, Battousai wasn't trying as hard to stay in control, and Kenshin pushed him aside to see what had happened this time. His violet eyes got huge as he realized whose corpse he was kneeling beside.  
"Noooo...." he groaned, seeing his beautiful wife's blood pouring out on the ground. Several vital organs were rent apart, but, mercifully, the blood loss would make her faint, and she would not be conscious when she died. It was hopeless to try to find a doctor, since by the time one arrived she would already be dead. Even without the blood loss, the injuries themselves couldn't be repaired.  
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, cradling her in his arms in her final moments. She looked up at him weakly and reached around to where his sword lay. What was she doing?  
"Remember...," she commanded, dragging the blade across the left side of his face. That would create another scar, to make a cross with the one that was already there. If anything, the physical sting just magnified the intense emotional turmoil he was experiencing. Now a tiny bit of his blood dropped down and mingled with hers, and she exhaled. She didn't inhale again afterward, and he knew she was gone. His tears coursed slowly down his face, then hers, and he cursed Battousai for being a killer and himself for not being strong enough to hold him back.  
  
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ok, i hope this is turning out well. i have very little knowledge on this period in kenshin's life, so if it is inaccurate please tell me. in any case, thank you for reading it and wanting it to continue.  
  
PraiseDivineMercy: I love your name. i don't think i'll be having him meet kenshin, because part of the fun of the story is that he has to wonder about the info-gaps. it won't be one of those where they go back in time and meet him, either, i don't care for those.  
  
Dreammaster2411: as you can see, i am continuing. i thought it would be a one-shot, but when i stopped writing, it seemed like there was more to be said, so i figured if people cared to hear about it i'd keep writing. thank you for your lavish praise, i'm blushing.  
  
Amaya: i love your name, and thank you for your kind request to continue. i will.  
  
Mayiki: i love your name, too. man, everybody who reviews this story has such pretty names. anyway, tank you, and i'll be continuing, though i don't know how often. i think at least one chapter a week, maybe two.  
  
Ginger 1280: thank you, and i'm glad you can identify with my character. you inspired me to do a bit of research myself, and it is a very interesting topic. i've done some research on the samurai in general and found some very interesting reading, as well. 


	3. Some Kind of Machine or Something

hello! i'm amazed at how many people reviewed, since i don't get near this many for my other story. anyway, thank you. i might end this story soon, because i'm kind of running outta ideas... if you can help me on that, i'd be glad to continue, as i like this story. it's surprisingly easy to write, considering my limited knowledge on the topic, but anyway, whatever.  
  
History Behind the History, chapter 3  
  
"Put your tests on my desk when you finish," Mr. Higo instructed, moving to sit behind said desk.  
Let's see, A, C, D, B, C, A, C, Akitaka guessed randomly at answers, moving quickly down the page. In a moment, however, he saw a question he was interested in answering.  
What was the name of the great revolutionary known as hitokiri Battousai?  
A. Hajime B. Seijurou C. Himura D. Unknown  
  
That was a trick question- unknown was the answer. After that, he finished the test and walked up to Mr. Higo's desk to turn it in. He set it down, and Mr. Higo looked up from something he was writing and nodded. He seemed to go back to what he was doing, but then suddenly looked up again.  
"Did you enjoy the article in the book I lent you?" He asked.  
"Actually, it kind of confused me, Sir," Akitaka answered. Not wanting to create a disturbance during the test, Mr. Higo stood and motioned for Akitaka to follow him, leaving an assistant in charge of the class. They entered a small, comfortable-looking office, and there were numerous pictures of a pretty, Asian woman and some children who looked something like Mr. Higo.  
"What was confusing about it?" Mr. Higo asked, continuing the conversation from the classroom.  
"Well, in class that day you said he was not just a killer, but had hopes and dreams and all that stuff," Mr. Higo nodded and Akitaka continued, "but in the article you lent me, it sounded like that guy was totally emotionless. I mean, he killed his own wife."  
"Some say that was an accident," Mr. Higo pointed out.  
"Yeah, but if he was supposedly so good..."  
"Maybe it was dark, maybe she got in his way at the last minute, we don't know the circumstances."  
"Well, still. I got the impression he was like... some sort of machine or something."  
"Maybe he did suppress his emotions, or maybe he just didn't express himself very well. Heck, maybe he had multiple personalities!" Mr. Higo joked and both men laughed. "My point is that everyone has emotions, whether or not they're visible on the surface."  
"I guess I get that," Akitaka shrugged.  
"I'd really encourage you to find out as much as you can- this is the fist time you've really shown an interest in history and I'd hate to have you give it up," Mr. Higo finished, walking back out to the classroom with Akitaka following.  
  
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*  
  
A fairly nice room in an inn- about as nice as you could expect during a war- lay completely untouched except for the floor. A small group of rebel forces was dispatched here for an important campaign, and this particularly important occupant had a room slightly above the norm in quality for this group, though it wasn't exactly what you'd call richly furnished either. At first glance, the room might appear vacant, and that was the way the occupant wanted it, but if you looked a second time, you might notice a small figure lying half-hidden on the floor behind a corner in the wall. All you would see would be a pair of legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, totally indistinguishable from any other wearer of the navy blue uniform that was in view. The face that was hidden, however, was entirely a different matter. It was recognizable from a mile away, and that was precisely why it was hidden, because the owner of said face preferred to know whom you were before you knew whom he was, provided you didn't know before entering his room.  
At this particular moment, he lay there fingering an envelope, contemplating what he knew was inside. There was a shiny gold seal, but other than that, the envelope was completely plain. Not even the name 'Himura' was written anywhere on it, making the recipient wonder briefly how it was identified for delivery to him specifically, but that was a lot less important than the fact that it had, in fact, come. He had not yet opened it, but knew that it contained orders, and the only orders he ever received were to kill people. Someone was going to die tonight, and by the same hands that were harmlessly turning an envelope in a near-empty room at the moment. Well, in the literal sense, yes, they would be those hands, but in reality, it would be a completely different person doing the killing. He didn't want to change, but it was inevitable now that he'd gotten the orders. Whomever was named inside the envelope didn't deserve to die any more than anyone else- any more than the person bringing about his death, for that matter- but was singled out because he did his job well and did it for the wrong side. The lonely assassin considered tearing up the envelope then and there, but simply lay it aside and pulled himself into a sitting position, now completely hidden from anyone who might open the door. He went through this inward struggle every time he received orders, but in the end the same side always won. Was it even worth it to think about it, or could he really prevent the inevitable? A few times he'd actually convinced himself that he could, but something always had to happen to put him in control. He could feel the tug already- he was trying to come out. Kenshin always tried to stay in control as long as possible, though for all the good it did he might as well have banged his head on the wall for three hours instead of torturing himself on the inside. Tonight, though... maybe tonight could be different. If he just never left this room, no one would be suspicious for awhile, since he had all night to complete the assignment, but that would only buy him one night. He would be called a traitor to the cause in the morning. He could just go the red- tape route and formally quit, but that would take so long probably fifteen more people would be dead before he stopped. He could just get up and leave, never come back. He would have to hide at least for awhile, though, because he was pretty easy to recognize if you knew who you were looking for. The only other way he could think of to avoid it... he looked over at his sword and then down at himself and dismissed that idea. In spite of everything, he knew he really did want to live, somewhere deep inside. In addition to that, there was the fact that if he killed himself he might as well walk right up and knock on the gates of hell. There had to be some other solution, but he was too sick of thinking about it. His mind was too exhausted to hold on any longer. As everything slowly went dark and his body started to stir, he had a very acute awareness that he would despise himself in the morning.  
  
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i like this chapter. it might be my favorite so far, except maybe chapter one. that's practically the whole story, right there. in any case, please tell me what you think on this, other than the two of them meeting. i don't plan on making this into a sci-fi story.  
  
Hitokiri-san: thank you for reading my fic as well. i really like yours, but i'll talk about that when i review it. i'm going to try diligently to update this at least once a week. glad you like Akitaka. my original characters are important to me, as i am not a born fanfic writer, so my stories generally focus on the OC's.  
  
Dreammaster2411: yes, well, this story is very sad, as it mostly deals with regret and angst over what he's done... feel free to cry and hug, but just be sure to let Kenshin breathe!  
  
Amaya: cool about the name. do you speak Japanese or did you just hear the name somewhere? thanks for the offer of information, and i may just take you up on it, but i'm doing some reading myself, so i may not need it much.  
  
Tomoe2Kenshin: your name is cute. thank you for saying it's original, i get tired of the same thing. i'll try to update this story at least once a week, though I may not ever get more than that.  
  
Someone whose name is just symbols i don't know how to produce from the computer: I don't plan on putting any time travel in here, because it's almost impossible to write that sort of thing without being cheesy, but incidentally, Hitokiri-san does a very good job with time travel in her fic "Past and Future."  
  
Ginger 1280: thank you. your story sounds cute, but he most certainly does not need a haircut! his hair is beautiful long. 


	4. Stop Looking at me Like That!

Whew! I thought I'd never come up with an idea for this chapter! I finally got one I liked, though, and I think you'll like it, too.  
  
Disclaimer: I've forgotten this so far in the other chapters, but here it is. I don't own RK. Happy?  
  
History Behind the History, chapter four  
  
Akitaka froze. There was a cold, concentrated pressure on his back that could only be a gun, and there was a very sweaty hand clamped over his mouth.  
"Keep your hands up where I can see 'em," a husky voice commanded from right behind his ear. Obediently, Akitaka raised his hands, but the thief (perhaps murderer) needn't have taken the precaution. He couldn't have done much with his hands even if they had been free.  
"Where's you money, kid?" The voice continued.  
"Ih wah fac hoc-hic," Akitaka answered. The hand was removed from his mouth and he repeated his message. "In my back pocket."  
His mouth was bound again, and there must have been an accomplice, because more hands began rifling through his pockets. There were now four strange hands in disgustingly close contact with him. His first thought was eww, but then he fully realized the gravity of the situation. Those strange hands could do irreparable damage if they didn't find what their owners wanted. There was still that ever-present gun in his back, and its bullets could be in his innards in less than a second if the wielder so chose. They had total control. If they decided he would die, he would die. He was utterly helpless. An odd thought came to Akitaka just then. Was this how it felt to have Battousai's sword pressed against your neck, knowing you were going to die in a matter of seconds? Did you sense the inevitability of it before you bit the dust? Probably the second you saw that unmistakable face, you knew you were dead. That's if you got a chance to see it before you started churning up blood. Maybe you never knew what hit you until you were gone.  
Akitaka was suddenly brought out of these morbid musings by a hard shove, and then he was on the pavement hearing running footsteps recede into the everyday street noise. A leg crashed into his side and he heard a little 'hmph' of indignation before he could climb to a standing position on the suddenly crowded sidewalk. Akitaka seemed to have lost his jacket entirely, while the pockets of his jeans were simply emptied. He shuffled sullenly home, wondering how he could be so fascinated by such a depressing figure as Battousai.  
  
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*  
  
Yet another furtive glance confronted Kenshin as he walked through the halls of the inn toward the room where he'd be spending most of the day. Why did they always have to look at him like that? It wasn't as if they had a reason to be afraid. They were, after all, on his side, were they not? He saw them only through a thick, red curtain of hair, since they were under no circumstances allowed to see him with purple eyes, as he had now. It was either stare at the ground or let him out, and the former was much more appealing. Actually, though, if they were already too afraid to look at him properly, maybe they wouldn't notice. Even if they did, who would be brave enough to ask for an explanation? It would just amount to more rumors, which idea wasn't very appealing either. In any case, he kept them hidden. He began to walk even more slowly when he began to hear whispers accompanied by cautious glances and blatant stares in his direction.  
"They say he does it just for fun," one person told another in seeming amazement.  
"I've heard he laughs when he kills them," said another.  
"Someone told me he's immortal,"  
"He'll kill you if you look at him the wrong way,"  
"What's his real name, anyway?"  
"He probably doesn't have one- he's just Battousai,"  
"I've heard he's really stupid- just a puppet that does whatever they say,"  
"No way, he has to be lever to be that good,"  
"Nah, he's just like a machine,"  
"Some people are saying he just wants to become a hero so he can take over the country once it's weakened from war,"  
Kenshin stopped when he heard that. He had heard many false sayings about himself, but never that particular one before. He looked into the crowd where the words were still originating and they all shut up quickly. He hadn't meant to threaten, only question, but this was a foreseeable reaction. From what they'd been telling one another, it was a safe assumption that they were wondering if they would die for said words. He decided to ask his question anyway.  
"What makes you think I'd want to do that?" He asked, perhaps more menacingly than he intended, because the only person with enough guts to answer him had to gulp several times before doing so.  
"Wouldn't anybody, uh, Sir?"  
Kenshin rolled his invisible eyes at being called 'sir' by someone twice his age. Truly, he didn't know if some of these accusations were well-grounded or not- perhaps his alternate self really did laugh when he killed. If he wanted to take over the country, well... Kenshin would have to do his utmost to prevent that. He might not be successful, though, since he was having enough trouble trying to prevent him from taking over their shared body.  
"Don't call me that, and it's not true," he instructed dismissively while walking away. A fresh bout of whispering erupted, but he didn't even bother listening to it this time. He just walked automatically to his room to be alone again, as always.  
He closed the door and the din outside abruptly subsided. It was quiet in here except for the low hum of indistinguishable noises that trickled in. This was the only place he didn't feel eyes on him at all times. When he was alone, he didn't have to hear his name repeated in low voices like it was a dirty word. For the first time since he entered the building, he could look at something other than the floor. He didn't have anything in particular at which to look, but that was better than the ground. He had gained control of his body in some strange place he didn't recognize, but fortunately after this happened a few times you got to know the city pretty well and didn't have too much trouble finding your way back. By the time he had done so today, most of the people in the inn were awake. Often he was able to get back before this, and could have a peaceful walk in. That wasn't to say the people didn't talk the, too. Most likely it just meant they did it more loudly, not whispering for fear of his hearing them.  
He walked immediately to the futon provided with the room and prepared to sleep, having been awake all night unsuccessfully trying to prevent himself from assassinating someone. Once he was under a blanket and in sufficient darkness, he gladly fell asleep before having to begin contemplating what must have transpired while the other half was in control.  
  
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okay, people, i think i may be able to continue longer than i thought. This will most certainly be fewer than 20 chapters. it will likely be fewer than ten. I don't know, but i don't have enough ideas for a very long story.  
  
Amaya: thank you for the idea. I may use that concept, but i won't be mentioning Kaoru or the oniwaban ppl at all since he didn't meet them until later and this is really about who he was during the war. I may use that to include information on other people though, but i don't know as much about the ppl from that period.  
  
Dreammaster2411: Ken and i both thank you from the bottoms of our hearts!  
  
Hitokiri-san: glad to hear you like Mr. Higo. He is actually a lot like my current history teacher who is amazing. She is actually restoring my love for history after having it destroyed by a succession of very bad teachers. That pesky school does make it difficult to write important fics, doesn't it? I wish we had year round school so i wouldn't have to rearrange my schedule when school starts and stops. You write them in Chinese? Do you have a computer that has Chinese characters on it or what? how do you type it? That sounds so cool, i'd want to read it if i could speak Chinese.  
  
Tomoe2Kenshin: yes, i really do love your name, i am a huge tomoe fan. Thank you for saying my chapter is good! i hope i can keep them good and angsty!  
  
Lucretia Levrai: thank you! i thought it was pretty artistic to combine the past and present, too. i had already written a chapter or two before i really came up with that... i just did it automatically at first. i'm proud of it, though. 


	5. Sixteen Candles

It seems i was not completely out of ideas... this one just sort of... jumped out at me when my sister was talking about birthdays... it seems kinda happy at first, but i couldn't let poor Kenshin be...  
  
History Behind the History, chapter five  
  
Akitaka sat in the center of a crowd of his family members gathered in his living room. He was being handed his first present of his sixteenth birthday. He took the small package and, knowing what was inside, shook it anyway. It made no sound, since it was a DVD, but that didn't matter. He tore it open and saw that it was a good old classic. He loved older movies, and his family knew it. They always seemed to think that this should mean he liked history, but he didn't see why. The nineteen fifties were vastly different from the boring old eighteen hundreds.  
He was handed another package, and this one was quite large. He shook it and it made a dull, soft noise, like the thing inside was large but light. He looked inside and saw, of all things, a blanket. How strange. He unfolded the blanket to look at it and something small and shiny fell out onto the floor. Everybody gasped, smiled, and pointed, and Akitaka bent down to see what all the excitement was about. He himself began smiling and gasping when he realized he was holding car keys.  
"Come on, try it out!" His aunt was suggesting, waving him toward the door. He went outside and everyone followed to see the bright red vehicle awaiting him there. To further encouragement from his family, he crossed to the driver's door and got in. Several people crammed themselves into the back and front passenger seats, but not everyone could fit.  
He started it up and began to drive. He just went around a couple of blocks, but it was exhilarating all the same. Really, what was a sixteenth birthday without cars? This must've been a depressing time before cars were invented. Imagine going through life never driving. What a boring life.  
  
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*  
  
Man, this was boring. A vibrant, young sixteen year old boy was alone in his room and it was, among other things, boring.  
"My first day of being sixteen and I don't even get the night off," he muttered to no one in particular, since there was no one there to hear anyway. He was turning sixteen today and no one even knew it, not that there was anyone he would really care to celebrate it with at this point. His date of birth was on file somewhere serving no purpose he could discern, but that was the extent of anyone else's knowledge on the subject. When he got up later to go eat lunch, no one would congratulate him when they saw him. He wouldn't get any presents. He wouldn't receive any enthusiastic letters from distant relatives telling him how big he was getting, though 'big' had never been an appropriate word where he was concerned. This was just one big reminder of how isolated he was from the outside world, not that he needed it.  
There was a soft tap on the door, and he looked up expectantly as he gave permission to enter. The young man who had recently been hired to deliver messages came in and held out an envelope. He stood up to go retrieve his message and the still-new messenger looked taken aback. He was about a foot taller than Kenshin was.  
"You are the hitokiri Battousai, right?" The young man asked, pulling the envelope back a fraction.  
"I am Himura," he answered. The boy gave him his letter, but still looked at him strangely.  
"How old are you, anyway?"  
"As of today, sixteen."  
"Really?" The man smiled, "Congratulations!" Then he left, simple as that. I stand corrected, the young assassin thought, beginning to feel a good mood coming on. He didn't want to ruin it by reading his orders just yet, and he was beginning to get hungry, so he went out of the room to find something to eat. As he approached a large group sitting around laughing and eating, one of them shouted and pointed.  
"Hey, Himura! I can't believe to day you're sixteen and you never even told us! How could you do that to us?" One very brave soul joked.  
"You, uh... never asked," he answered cautiously, confused by the other's strange behavior. Since when did people ever talk to him and not about him?  
"What are you so serious for? You're sixteen, have some sake! You're a man now!"  
Kenshin was even more surprised by this comment, and just stared at the older man. The group's smiles faded as they saw Kenshin not laughing and not drinking. It became increasingly evident that these were the same people who hushed their whispering when he walked by on a normal day.  
"Not that... not that you weren't a man before, it's just, uh... now it's official!" The man recovered nervously and Kenshin laughed this time just to calm them all down. Apparently the new messenger boy had delivered an extra message along with the mail that morning. He took the bottle that was being thrust at him and calmly lay it aside, trying not to be rude about refusing it.  
This was an odd feeling, being in the middle of a flurry of people wishing him well and patting him on the back. They were quite bold today, but he didn't mind. It was like they were trying to be nice for once, not just stay out of his way. Were they really this happy for him, or were they just trying to get on his good side? He didn't know, and really wanted to believe they cared, so he told himself that was what it was, pushing away any part of him that thought otherwise. Someone was offering him that same sake bottle again.  
"No thanks, I don't drink," he declined politely, which elicited groans and urges from the rest of those sitting close by. "I have to, um, work tonight, and if I get drunk-" He began, not really preferring work over a vomiting stupor, but knowing he really shouldn't anyway. It didn't matter, for he was being interrupted yet again.  
"You're only sixteen, you shouldn't have to worry about all that!"  
"Only sixteen?" He asked. Sixteen was a big deal, at least to him. Heck, it was the oldest he'd ever been. There were nervously wavering smiles and some gulps around the table. They were afraid again. They were obviously just trying to placate him by being nice. Couldn't they see that all he wanted from them was some genuine feeling?  
"Well, uh, you're young and you... um... should be able to do what you want and uh... not that you can't do what you want, I mean, you just seem..."  
"Don't patronize me," the suddenly cold voice of the true assassin that lurked within him commanded. His now-amber eyes were slits as he smashed the sake bottle and stalked off to his room without having eaten anything.  
  
***************************************************** i don't know what the driving age is in Japan, so i just stuck with sixteen. sorry if it's inaccurate.  
  
well, you guys knew there couldn't be a happy chapter in an angst fic... sorry, Ken, you understand...  
  
Kenshin: It's all right, that it is. If it makes you happy to punish me...  
  
the sacred night: No, no, Ken-san, it's not that at all! I want you to be happy, I just... couldn't pass up that inspiration when it came.  
  
Kenshin: I see. The inspiration is all-important.  
  
sacred: stop it! that's just how the story goes, ok? please don't be upset...  
  
Kenshin: Well... i see you are very sorry, and I have done many things to be punished for, that Sessha has.  
  
sacred: don't do that, you know we can't stand to see you torture yourself...  
  
Kenshin: but-  
  
sacred: no buts! you will be happy and i refuse to let you be otherwise.  
  
Kenshin: You're going to write a happy chapter?  
  
sacred: well... we'll see how that goes.  
  
Hitokiri-san: yeah, teachers can totally kill a subject if they're bad... but lucky me i have a GREAT math teacher... she's very smart and explains things perfectly. actually my computer at school has a program like that for lots of languages but not the one at home. thank you for the compliments, and have no worries about your story, it is excellent. i really don't want this to turn out cheesy, so i'm not even going to attempt time travel.  
  
PraiseDivineMercy: thanks. it was not my idea to give him 'true' multiple personalities, but i like to write it. i realize this is au, because i know very little about the Bakumatsu era, but it is such fun to write about. thank you for telling me about the long paragraphs... i've noticed this in other stories and it never occurred to me that i was doing it. i'll try to do better.  
  
Amaya: thank you!  
  
Rarity88: thank you! profusely! i have the urge to give you presents!  
  
Ginger 1280: thank you, and don't feel bad for not reviewing. you don't have to, but i appreciate it.  
  
Lucretia LeVrai: thanks! i do try to make Akitaka interesting, but you're right, ken is much more important! i really like that part, too, but i can't put my finger on why... 


	6. Mush

Hello! lol you'll never know all the trouble i go through for you... i actually took this to school and worked on it in between sections of the PSAT so i could finish it in time... but really it was no trouble whatsoever because it's not like i had anything else to do between sections. and also one of you asked for a comparison of the two boys' love lives, so here. you got it.  
  
History Behind the History, chapter 6  
  
Akitaka put his shiny, new red car in park in a strange driveway. He was taking a girl out for the first time in awhile- his breakup with his steady girlfriend last year had shaken him up and he had thought he would never look at another woman. She had moved away and they'd tried hard to keep up their dating, but in the end, it was just a sham- there had been no real relationship left after awhile other than a few awkward phone calls where neither of them had known what to say. This had been enough to keep him from getting over her, and thus he'd had lots of emotional baggage recently. All summer he had seen girls, talked to them, even enjoyed their company, but never once been interested in romance. Finally, though, another girl had shown interest and he had felt all right returning it. Now here he was in her driveway.  
It felt like slimy things were squirming around in his stomach as he walked up to the door, slowly realizing he would also have to confront the strange parents who lived in this strange house. Be cool, he told himself. Just don't drop anything on anybody. He was actually carrying some roses, which had the potential to be painful if dropped on somebody, as he'd seen firsthand on his and his last girlfriend's three month anniversary. He knocked on the door and soon a short man with some gray hair beginning to appear stood before him.  
"M-Mr. Higo?" Akitaka asked in confusion.  
"Akitaka! My daughter, Kira, said she had a date with you tonight. I'll go get her," he offered and disappeared without inviting Akitaka inside. A few moments later, the unexpected teacher came to the door again and invited Akitaka in, since Kira apparently wasn't ready yet. Of course.  
The two men sat in the living room across a coffee table from one another and there was a small silence. So the father of his date was also his teacher- great. The squirming things in his stomach were now apparently involved in a wild duel to the death.  
"So... Mr. Higo... Kira never told me she was your daughter," Akitaka observed nervously, trying to make pleasant conversation.  
"Really? Can't imagine why not. Have you chosen a subject for your history paper?" Finally, a relatively comfortable topic.  
"I think I'll research Battousai some more. He was very interesting."  
"That he was. I believe you'll find more if you look up the name 'Himura.'"  
"But... the book said his name was unknown..."  
"There's only speculation, but they're calling him that in some of the more knowledgeable circles and in the best articles out there," Mr. Higo explained.  
"Thanks, Mr. Higo!" Akitaka exclaimed just as a beautiful young woman entered the room. "Hi, Kira!" He greeted enthusiastically.  
"Hi, Akitaka. Sorry I wasn't ready," she apologized. She looked up at him and she was radiant with what seemed to be happiness. Akitaka felt it, too.  
"It's all right. Shall we go?"  
"Yes," she answered with a nod.  
  
* *  
*  
  
"What do you think of her?"  
"Nice! What about her?"  
"Hey, sweet thing!"  
"What about that one over there?"  
"She's really pretty, but look over there."  
These and other comments emanated from a group of men poking each other, laughing, and wearing navy blue uniforms. One man walked apart from the rest, but clearly had the same destination, though there was no telling where that might be. Oddly enough, the man not taking part in the girl- watching was the youngest one there- a sixteen year old with long red hair and a cross shaped scar on the left side of his face.  
"Hey, Himura, what so you think of that pretty thing over there?" Someone asked, elbowing him lightly on the arm.  
"All right I guess," he answered without looking up. He never participated in the other soldiers' woman-chasing. There was only one who interested him, and she was gone. He could never look at another woman.  
"Aw, come on, you didn't even look! She's really pretty, see?" The man pointed with his entire arm brazenly and impolitely stretched in the direction of a certain female. Kenshin's eyes flicked up for only a second and only to satisfy the guy, not alighting on anything in particular, and then looked back down again.  
"All right, I guess." Couldn't this guy take a hint? This was one time it would've been convenient to have them afraid, but of course, they only acted like that when it would be most annoying to him, never when he was in an antisocial mood.  
"Jeez, you really should lower your standards a bit if she doesn't do anything for you. You'll be alone the rest of your life with that attitude," the man said, rolling his eyes.  
"I don't mind that."  
"You will. You might think now that you'll never love again, but you're young. You'll get over it," the man explained more impatiently that compassionately. It?  
He turned and looked into the other's eyes, hurt. "I will not, and even if I did, who am I to ask another woman to go through what she went through? After taking away so many people's lives and happiness, I tried to protect one person and couldn't do it. No woman would want me."  
"She did."  
There was a brief silence as the two men walked next to one another, letting that statement hang in the air. Eventually, Kenshin looked back at the ground and the other man went back to the crowd to shout offensive things at passing women. Maybe he was right. Maybe a woman would want to be with him in the future, but he couldn't take that opportunity when and if it came. Just because someone wanted something didn't mean it was good for them, and there was no way he could be good for someone. How good had he been for the woman who'd accepted him before? She couldn't answer that question because she was dead, and that was answer enough. He would never look at another woman as long as he lived.  
  
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Well, you can see where i am on writing a happy chapter... probably the last chapter will be the only happy one in the bunch, and maybe not even that one will be. i don't know, because i'm not really going any particular place with this story. as you can see it has no plot so far, so feel free to request things as i'm having difficulty coming up with more ideas anyway.  
  
Amaya: thank you! just so you know i update this fic every Tuesday, i don't know if i told you that before. thanks for saying this is interesting, i try to keep my stories original.  
  
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: when you said Battousai was kawai maybe you meant kawaii... i think kawai means pathetic and kawaii means cute. i personally think he looks better as Battousai... but i like him better as the Rurouni because he's all peaceful-like and i'm into nonviolence. i like to do things people 'never thought about.'  
  
PraiseDivineMercy: i live to serve! like the romance thing? about torturing the characters... my sister wrote a fic where k&k were married already, had Kenji, then she died! then he married a THIRD wife, and bloody heck is he going to have serious emotional problems if this one doesn't pan out...  
  
Hitokiri-san: things do turn out to be unhappy, especially for Kenshin, poor guy... but what you said about school, i would gladly help you in math if you're having trouble i LOVE math and i'm good at it. i don't know much about Chinese history though, or any history really... i feel for you on the 40 pages thing though, that sounds hard. 


	7. A Shadow

Hi! I've finally got an idea where i'm going with this story now, but you can still request things and i might use them. Also, i wrote a poem about enishi right after reading the revenge arc a few days ago that you might want to check out if you're into poetry. It's called 'crying, cringing child.'  
  
History Behind the History, chapter 7  
  
There had been frustratingly little information available to Akitaka when he'd researched Battousai before, but the strange little redhead was the only thing of historical significance he could imagine writing five pages about without also imagining hanging himself, and he hoped this new tidbit about his name would help. He scanned through the various links that lined themselves up and stood at attention across the screen, waiting for him to choose one to serve him with information. Beneath one of the underlined blue website titles, there appeared the words "... Himura Battousai was apparently not intended to be remembered as a hero or anything of that nature, really never to be remembered at all..."  
Akitaka clicked on the highlighted text to bring up more of this article, since it offered more insight than he had yet seen on the subject of this Himura guy. A rather long piece of prose appeared, but the gist was that Battousai was never meant to inspire fear or intimidate because of his reputation- good thing, since that would inspire something more like laughter when they saw him in person- but was more like a secret weapon, not generally seen by any who would live to tell the tale. A spy had put an end to that, however, and he had become known.  
How odd. Of course, samurai were not generally supposed to act for personal glory, but still... it amazed him how someone so ruthless could also be selfless. Even though his actions were undeniably wrong, they did seem in a way well-intended. To kill for peace... this man must have been very confused at times and had lots of conflicting emotions. What had this peace-loving killer done after the war ended? Had he even survived that long? Would he have continued killing in an effort to maintain the peace he cared so much about? Wouldn't that kind of... defeat the purpose... or something?  
Maybe he hadn't done that. Maybe he'd stopped when he didn't feel it was necessary anymore, or even totally repented of ever doing it in the first place. Akitaka had thought there would be no telling which of these was the truth, but with this new information about his name, maybe there was a way to find out. That would have to wait, though, as someone was currently screaming commands to get off the internet now or face the consequences.  
Akitaka pushed back from the desk and watched the screen go black as his sister dialed a number elsewhere in the house. He walked a short distance to his room, flipped on the light, and haphazardly threw his thin, lanky body onto his bed. He changed his mind and turned the light back off, just to lie there in the dark. This was more conducive to deep thought.  
He thought more about this new perspective he had encountered today. Had it been Battousai's express wish not to be remembered? Was he just that private sort of person who didn't like the idea of strangers knowing things about him or was there a more practical reason he had not been recognized even after the war ended. It would be disrespectful of the dead to continue researching his life i he didn't want it known, but there was really no guarantee that was his wish and not someone else's.  
What had the Ishin Shishi done when Battousai had been betrayed? There was no indication of when this whole spy ting happened, but it would have to have been early enough in the war to make a difference or the spy wouldn't have bothered. So had they fired him to hire an unknown? Had they simply given up on the idea of a secret assassin and allowed him to work openly? They might have simply let him continue and tried to make use of his fearsome reputation.  
The most annoying thing about having a ravenous interest in something was that one could never answer all the questions. The more Akitaka learned, the more he realized he didn't know. He was sick of thinking about it for today. There were too many questions buzzing about his brain, so he just closed his eyes, breathed deeply to get rid of the stress, and slept.  
  
* *  
*  
  
In a house in the middle of nowhere, one very guilty assassin stared at a book that would be meaningless now to all but only two people in the entire world. The other person would not glimpse it for many years, and possibly did not yet know it existed. Right now, he was the only person who would care to read the diary of his dead wife.  
It had taken some doing to convince himself to read it, but he thought it would be a shame to just let her thoughts fade into oblivion. She had guarded her diary fiercely when she was alive, but he felt sure she would not have minded his reading it now. There were those noble ideas about preserving her memory, but really, he just wanted to feel close to her. He wanted to relive the time he had known her, which was recorded in this book and would allow him to briefly feel like she was there again. If he took a bit of time to read her diary, maybe he could delay the inevitable and she wouldn't be gone just yet.  
These had been his thoughts when he'd sat there not knowing what he held in his hands, and now as he sat there after acquiring that knowledge, he understood her better than he ever had while she'd lived. If he had known all the things right there in that book a few days ago, a beautiful woman might still be waiting for him, alive, in another part of the house. She might be simply out for awhile and not dead, or she might be away on a trip to visit a friend. Better yet, she might be sitting here beside him right now in front of this fire that somehow gave no heat any longer without her presence.  
He was just thinking of throwing the diary on the fire when someone walked in and, thankfully, distracted him. He didn't turn around, because the person obviously wasn't hostile and he didn't need to move to defend himself. He could probably have read the person's ki to determine who it was, but didn't bother. He wasn't in the mood for company and didn't feel like looking away from the fireplace.  
"Himura," said a familiar voice that rang with the polite sympathy you express when you are talking to someone who was closer to the deceased than you were. Kenshin didn't respond. "We caught the spy. Everything relevant about you... they know everything. We've already gotten a new hitokiri to work secretly. We have to have someone no one knows, you understand."  
So now I'm damaged goods, hm? Of course, that's not it, but it sure feels like rejection. "I understand," was all he answered.  
"Good. I'm going to need you to work harder than ever now that we've been set back like this. Dirty business, spying. The traitor."  
Spying is dirty business, but what do you call my job? "I thought you were firing me," he replied. Secretly hoped is more like it. I want this to be over.  
"No, no, not at all. Just adapt, is all. Heave to learn to adapt to any situation. Adapt, my boy, adapt!" The older man affirmed, pounding the teenager's back. He submitted without taking any comfort whatsoever in the gesture that was surely meant affectionately.  
"Adapt," he repeated dumbly. He was only absorbing the basics- he was not fired, the spy had been caught. None of it seemed important in the wake of a tragic death, but he knew in the back of his mind somewhere that this information would be needed later, so he reluctantly listened.  
"Well, best be on my way, son, got more news to deliver. Be well, Himura," the officer bowed and left.  
That man had not cared one whit that an innocent woman was dead. As long as his prized possession was willing to work, he didn't care. It was not, however, his job to care. It was his job to see that certain others killed as many of the other side as possible. This was not the first time Kenshin had been disgusted with his occupation, but it was that first time he even sort of saw a clear alternative. In that moment, he knew he would never take another human life after the war was over. He also knew that he really should stop now, but didn't understand how he could do that with the war and the corrupt government still in place. There had to be a better way, but what was it? Even if it was wrong, didn't he have an obligation to at least do something? Wasn't a shot in the dark better than no shot at all?  
  
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you may ask me 'why is this just now happening when tomoe died like, 4 chapters ago?' my answer to this would be that the flashbacks are not in chronological order, but are paired with the scene from Akitaka's life that they most parallel. just thought i'd avoid questions on that.  
  
Hitokiri-san: really? i can't imagine being around that many math-lovers, everybody i know hates it and i love it. i'm really into the arts too but i'm into just about everything. if the guy walking with kenshin was too convenient i'm sorry. i just thought he needed someone to sort of externalize his feelings with and to try to convince him he's not some disgusting snake or something nobody wants to be near.  
  
Dreammaster 2411: thank you for you compliments and your suggestion. you are right, i wasn't planning on doing anything after the war in this fic, but i may change my mind.  
  
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: its ok about the kawaii thing i just wasn't sure what you meant. anyway as you may know i update on tuesdays. 


	8. A Diary

Hello again! I am such a pitiful excuse for a writer... I had a week to write this chapter, but i didn't write until today, the day I post. fortunately for me, i'm off school today because of election day. election day is such a cruel irony... my birthday is a week and a half after election day, so even after i'm eighteen i won't be able to vote for another year. oh well. anyway, here goes.  
  
History Behind the History, chapter eight  
  
It was amazing how much information one could find on a person if one tried. The caption under that little photo in his history book and Mr. Higo's comments in class had led him to believe hitokiri Battousai was practically a phantom, but there was much more knowledge than he had thought. What lies beneath is never fully betrayed by the surface.  
Apparently, there was a small faction of historians fascinated, like him, by this 'Himura' character. There was an even smaller faction within this one that was interested in his wife, Tomoe. Akitaka was scanning one of this group's Web sites currently, and had come across quite the intriguing passage. Yukishiro (Himura) Tomoe faithfully kept a diary throughout the time she knew Battousai, which, if found, would undoubtedly reveal much about both of them.  
Akitaka's interest was piqued. There was a physical object he could hunt. He read on. This book ultimately ended up in the hands of her ferociously attached brother, Enishi. What would a 'ferociously attached brother' do with it? Most likely, he would keep it with him everywhere he went if he were really attached, or maybe keep it at his house if he were more sedate. This led him to search for two places: where Yukishiro Enishi lived, and where he died.  
  
* *  
*  
  
Kenshin sat there a long while after his commanding officer left, staring alternately at the book in his hands and the fire in front of him. He was, for the second time, contemplating joining the two, when, for the second time, someone interrupted by entering. This tattered little book really must be fated to survive.  
"Enishi-chan," he greeted rather emptily. All he received in answer was a cold glare before the now-white haired child turned and ran the opposite direction.  
As the departed's husband, Kenshin technically owned all of her worldly possessions now, but thought this diary would best serve Enishi. It would help him understand things, but... when he was older. Such a young boy probably wouldn't understand the respect with which it should be treated, and anyway he wouldn't have anywhere to put it. e was probably homeless. It would be kept for him, though. It didn't seem right for Kenshin to keep it until then, so he would leave it to the same ones to guard her body.  
He felt a little guilty for not trying to help Enishi when he could guess that the boy was homeless and alone, but there were reasons he could not really do much anyway.  
As nice as it might be as a reminder to Kenshin of Tomoe, Enishi would not want to live with his sister's killer, even if it had been an accident and even if it was his best chance of survival. Actually, the survival part was debatable, since Kenshin was a key player in this little thing called a war that was still going on...  
The next best thing to do for the child after taking him in would be to refer him to someone else who could do so, though even this would have to be done covertly, as Enishi would willingly die before knowingly taking advice from Kenshin. He didn't really know of anyone who could- and more importantly, would- do that anyway, however. The most he could do for Enishi right now was to preserve his sister's thoughts until he was old enough to receive them.  
Even though he couldn't help Enishi, Kenshin found himself wondering where he would go and how he would live. They were only about five years apart in age, which brought to mind a similar situation he had faced at a similar age.  
Was it already five years ago that he had been another orphaned ten- year-old that also had no place to go and no family? Now he was in the position of the murderers who were the reason he'd been orphaned, and Enishi was in his own place. He hung his head, struck by the similarity between them. Would some kind stranger take on Hiko's role in the repeated incident? The odds were such that if one did not, a gambler would put his money elsewhere than Enishi's survival, or at least his well-being.  
If anything, Enishi's real sister could be likened to Kenshin's three adopted 'sisters' who had never known him as Kenshin. Tomoe had died trying to save Kenshin, however, not Enishi, but it still sort of fit. Tomoe, his fellow slaves, plus all the people he had willingly killed... so many people had died because of him, and would likely continue to do so. Even after he stopped killing when the war ended, might more people sacrifice themselves willingly to die for reasons that had somehow to do with him? Might it preserve more life if he simply extinguished his own before anyone else died? The voice of one of those very people came to mind and declared otherwise.  
"Until you're old enough to choose your own way of life, you've got to... you've got to stay alive!" A woman's voice implored somewhere inside his head. He had still not chosen his own way of life, had he? He had always been pushed into things by adults and calmly acquiesced. Though he had not protested, he had not asked to be taught the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. He had chosen to be involved in the war, true, but he had not chosen this. When he'd been approached about becoming an assassin, he again had not protested, but had not asked for it, either. Katsura had made it sound like such noble work, ridding the world of injustice and oppression, creating a new, peaceful era, but really all that was a sham. No doubt, Katsura believed those things and had not intentionally lied to him, and this absolved him of nothing. He had allowed himself to be convinced. Violence begets violence, not peace, despite the best of intentions. It is a vicious cycle, piling action upon reaction upon revenge upon more and more and more... it would never stop until someone did something other than the retaliation the cycle demanded, refused to continue the violence. It would not stop on its own when the war's causes were satisfied, as some believed. Someone would have to actively refuse it, which would not happen for quite some time. He saw that now. If he were the one to stop the cycle, that would mean simply quitting, and he did not have the authority to make others stop. Someone in a decision making position would have to make the appropriate decision, whichever side the decision came from. Perhaps he could bring the end more quickly if he stayed here to do his dark job. That might or might not be true, but it was what he was resolved to do. Only time would reveal what the correct choice would have been.  
  
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i like this chapter because it has enishi in it... and i love enishi. he's bad, but i pity him. i often do that. anyway, on to the review responses:  
  
Ginger1280: Don't feel obligated to review; it's a privilege for me and not a right. You won't hurt my feelings. i'm not planning for kenshin and akitaka to meet because they lived about 125 years apart and i would have to make this into a sci-fi story to do that. thank you for saying you like this, i'm glad you're enjoying it. i think it's better than my other fic, 'Baka Deishi' since it's more internal and angsty and also i know more about rk now so it's more accurate. my others are either one-shot or poetry, so they can't really be compared to this.  
  
Amaya: thank you for your ideas, but as you can see akitaka's getting info from a different journal now. i like the flashbacks, though. they're part of the structure of the chapters now, and the most fun to write. that was cute about the universe. hey guess what? i used your name in my spanish homework. i had to write a short story with spanish words in it and amaya was this very misao-like character (read: loud).  
  
Hitokiri-san: sorry if katsura was too cruel... i meant it to be a contrast between the strong emotions ken is having and katsura's rather normal behavior, but also that he's trying to encourage him to be strong. plus when you're feeling loss and someone else isn't quite as injured by it as you, you tend to think they don't care even if they do, it's just human nature kenshin just got that impression i guess even if that's not what katsura meant to convey. hey, i don't know much about the Japanese language, but i just noticed this... your name means 'honorable assassin' doesn't it? how ironic and creative.  
  
PraiseDivineMercy: actually i hadn't planned on it, but you gave me the idea and i used it. he's going to have to work to track it down by finding out things about enishi, which i'm going to LOVE writing! i adore enishi! 


	9. Familiarity

Hmmm... I lied. I put in some postwar stuff... actually it's post everything, post-jinchuu. In any case, here is my chapter that is basically all about Enishi (yay!). This chapter might be boring for you if you already know a lot about Enishi, but I decided to leave all the background stuff in because Enishi can be very confusing to someone who doesn't know this stuff... i speak from experience. If you're bored, skip down to the 'flashback' scene.  
  
History Behind the History, chapter 9  
  
Yukishiro Enishi, Akitaka typed into the search engine's text box. Out of pure curiosity, he checked 'images; as a category in which to display results. Several images came up, and though they were all black and white photos, he could tell some were of a black haired child and some of a white haired man. Were there two different Yukishiro Enishis? Maybe the text results would explain it.  
How odd... most of the sites to come up with information on Yukishiro had to do with Chinese history, not Japanese. Was Yukishiro Chinese? That didn't make much sense either... Battousai's wife, Chinese? During a war, a foreigner coming in and marring an important Ishin Shishi? Intriguing.  
He clicked on a link to bring up an article that had several interesting tidbits of information. The Yukishiros were, in fact, Japanese, but Enishi had gone to live in China while the Revolution was still going on. He had been taken in by a Chinese family after living on the streets for quite awhile, but one night had suddenly murdered the entire family. Authorities had never found him, and he'd grown up to form a smuggling network specializing in very strange, very illegal weaponry.  
The short and short of it was that he'd eventually come back to Japan, expanding his business horizons while conveniently heading for Tokyo to cash in a personal IOU, so to speak. After creating a substantial amount of havoc in the city, he had gotten to the point and challenged his enemy directly. The two had never actually fought on the agreed day, as a group of 'comrades'- Yukishiro was loath to call them underlings- he had assembled kept the challenged party busy while Yukishiro quietly kidnapped a local woman, leaving an elaborate imitation cadaver in her residence to convince locals she'd been killed.  
Apparently having a soft spot for young women such as his sister had been, he did not actually kill the lady, but took her to a secluded island nearby. The girl's friends had eventually figured this out and gone to rescue her, culminating in a fight between Yukishiro and the one he had originally challenged. Yukishiro was delivered into police custody, but disappeared from the police boat before it got back to Tokyo.  
He seemed also to have given up his stake in the weapon-smuggling ring around that time, as it fell to a new owner and promptly fizzled. He had disappeared with his late sister's diary in his possession, and it was widely believed that he had returned to Shanghai, China, as he was never seen in Japan again. He had been only briefly glimpsed at his old residence, however, and his house had stood for years empty of life but filled with his possessions until it had finally fallen down. The site had been superstitiously avoided until a developer had come decades later and burned the remains, making room for what had later become an apartment complex.  
Well, that put an abrupt end to things, didn't it? It seemed like this Enishi person had just dropped off the face of the Earth. He'd just have to be tracked down, then, wouldn't he?  
  
* *  
*  
  
Yukishiro Enishi exited his house with nothing in his hands. He carried no sword, no weapons of any kind, and, in fact, had nothing with him at all except the clothes he wore. He turned around and took a last look at the place he'd planned his 'Earthly Justice'- what a joke. He should have known his sister wouldn't have wanted him to exact revenge upon the Bat- no, Kenshin: Himura Kenshin, his former brother-in-law. He had acted as if he was the ultimate victim in all this, but that, of course, was his sister: the dead person, remember? Duh. Or, more accurately, duh is what he might have thought if he lived in the twentieth century, but he didn't. In any case, he'd been foolish and quite drunk with rage.  
Come to think of it, what had it gotten her the time she tried to wreak revenge on the very same man? She hadn't been able to do it. She'd gone off and fallen in love with him. Enishi could just imagine her going into her 'bossy big sister' voice and telling him not to go after her killer. 'You'll get yourself hurt,' she'd say. Besides, they had fallen in love. She had forgiven him for killing her fiancé and would forgive him for killing her if she were alive to do so, not that that sentence made sense without a good amount of sake in you before you heard it. After seeing his former brother-in-law, he knew that that man felt a lot of remorse and did not need Enishi to explain what a bad thing killing his sister was. No one ad needed or wanted him to do anything, but then look what he'd gone and done.  
Enishi shook his head to clear it and walked on. This place was too... familiar. Everything he'd known for so long was tainted with the idea of his revenge, so everything familiar was also unsettling. This place was disgusting to him now, as was everything associated with the last ten years. Ten years was a long time. While he'd lived in China, he'd been quite literally obsessed with events that had happened and would happen in Japan, and now both countries were utterly distasteful to him through no fault of their own.  
Perhaps he'd find a third country to inhabit and ruin, or maybe he'd continue traveling and not stay long enough in one place to taint it. Just about every place he'd ever been gave him thoughts he didn't want, so he might never visit the same place twice again. He'd become a wanderer of the world and never see this building or this city again. He'd learn new languages and forget the ones from his childhood. He'd wear strange clothes, eat strange foods, and follow strange customs.  
It didn't sound like a happy life, homelessness, but it would be easier than staying here and facing all this familiarity. Anything familiar brought back horrible memories, both of things he'd seen or felt and of things he'd done- terrible things. He'd been driven by nothing but anger over his sister's death, but knowing her thoughts now melted all the anger down into only sadness. He was sad that she'd died, of course, but also of the things he'd done in her name since then. She was so pure, and he'd killed people trying to use her to justify it. That couldn't be done, and he was finding out the hard way.  
He set out to travel- travel far, far away from his old home and his old life.  
  
********************************************************************** i think this story is getting off track. maybe not, though, i think i kinda see where it's going. anyway, if there are ideas, feel free to suggest.  
  
nishichans 1fan: yay! another enishi-fan! where did you get a poster of him? i want one... and yes, i agree he is very cool, though there is that pesky he-is-a-murderer detail...  
  
Ginger1280: i'll consider having them meet in a dream, but no time travel. thank you for your compliments and i'm glad you enjoy the story.  
  
Ymir-chan: sorry you're bored. this story is not meant to be action/adventure, as that is not really my style. my writing is more introspective. you're free to read or not, review or not, but if you choose to keep reading, i'll be most grateful.  
  
Amaya: always glad to make someone feel special! glad you like the story and i'll keep it coming! oddly, ff.net seems to have emailed me your review twice. did you perchance find a way to review twice? some chapters it won't even let me review once because it says i already have. computers can be so weird. just like boys. 


	10. Enishi's Final Curtain

Hey peeps! This is the last chapter of enishi-ness, at least for now. we'll be getting back to kenshin soon.  
  
History Behind the History  
  
Akitaka groaned as he shoved another very large, very useless book back onto its shelf. After being sighted for the last time in Japan in a place called Rakuninmura, then at his old home in Shanghai, it seemed as if Yukishiro Enishi really had just evaporated.  
Just Akitaka's luck, he had probably changed his name so he'd be impossible to track. Come to think of it, of Akitaka had done the kinds of things Enishi had done, he'd probably change his name, too. He might then have gone back and lived right in the middle of Tokyo and no one would've known.  
Then, maybe he'd become a hermit in attempt to make up for his crimes- or to avoid committing them again. Maybe that was idealistic thinking to think he would even try to make up for them, but hey, it could happen. That would make him difficult to track, since he wouldn't be on record as being involved with any important public events. Maybe he was just too depressed to leave his own home.  
Perhaps he'd... killed himself. People did that often enough out of guilt or grief, and Yukishiro had plenty of both. It was even more common back then, when seppuku was considered a very honorable death. That death wouldn't be on record, since he'd have done it where the police couldn't find him before he finished.  
If he'd planned to kill himself, his possessions would probably all be at his house, since he wouldn't exactly need them. The diary would have been burned with the rest, unless he held it dear enough to keep it with him when he died. In that case, it would suffer the same fate as the corpse with which it was found.  
If he'd traveled, it was probably with him when he died. If he'd become a hermit or changed his name, it would be in his new residence. There was no telling where that might be. What a frustrating dead end.  
Maybe there was a clue in this Rakuninmura place, though. Shanghai, he knew. Tokyo, he knew. What was Rakuninmura?  
  
* *  
*  
  
"Yukishiro-san! Yukishiro-san, wake up!" An old woman was bent over Enishi's unconscious form in the Kyoto inn where he had obtained her mercy and a room while he was sick. She shook him, repeating his name to wake him up. He was not really likely to wake up since in his illness he'd been drifting in and out of consciousness, but really she was just checking to see if he was alive or no.  
"Unnngh," came the only reply. At least he was alive- he wouldn't be much longer.  
"We did as you asked," she informed him.  
"The diary?"  
"On its way to the shrine," she confirmed.  
His last request had been to return his sister's diary to the shrine where she was buried. He had come back to Kyoto just for this purpose when he knew his life was ending.  
He rolled over and clutched his side in a sudden, painful spasm.  
"Would you like a blade?" The woman asked, and he knew she was offering him suicide as an alternative to the slow, agonizing death he had been enduring for days.  
"No... I couldn't,"  
"Would you like assistance?"  
"No. I promised my father I would never end my own life purposely," he explained, but the woman could see he was raving, mad in his illness. Yukishiro-san had not seen his father since he was a small boy, and small boys do not say things like that.  
"Hai, your father," she repeated soothingly, knowing madmen could not be persuaded to do what they did not wish to do. If he were to have an honorable death, she'd have to give it to him.  
She began to pray over him prayers that, if able, he would pray himself. When ready, she lifted her blade and prepared to give him a quick death. She lowered it slowly, but he grabbed her hand before the point could reach him.  
"No," he said, "I don't deserve it,"  
"B-But, Yukishiro-san! It would be undignified to lie here and let the illness take you, to suffer and show weakness! Let me give you and honorable death!" She pleaded.  
"I'm not honorable," he replied. "I never told you this, but my sister died when I was a child," he paused and the woman started to offer condolences before he signaled for her to be silent. "I was hopeless after she was killed-"  
"She was murdered?" The lady interrupted.  
"After a fashion, perhaps, but really it was an accident. The man who killed her- her husband- was trying to save her, but he was losing pretty badly, so she tried to save him by involving herself in the fight. He couldn't see her in time to avoid killing her with his opponent. I guess she really did save him, but she didn't make it," he explained.  
"Oh, I see," the woman nodded.  
"Anyway, I was hopeless after that. I ran away and ended up in Shanghai, lived on the streets, killed the people who tried to take care of me, and set up and illegal weapons-dealing ring. I went to Tokyo to get revenge on my brother-in-law for killing my sister, because I was hopeless then, as I said. I also didn't know the whole story at the time," the woman nodded to show she understood.  
"I killed a lot of innocent people and destroyed a good chunk of Tokyo with the help of five chosen fighters who also had grudges against that man, and whom I supplied with illegal weapons. I won't give too much excruciating detail, but there was a lot of unnecessary violence and I kidnapped a girl. Fortunately, her friends were able to come save her. I was arrested, but escaped to Rakuninmura,"  
"Rakuninmura?" The woman gasped. "You must've been very badly off, then," she commented.  
"Yes. I met a man there called Oibore, and he helped me understand how much I didn't want to be there. He reminded me of my father, so I called him that. It was better than Oibore, anyway," he laughed airily. "He's the one I promised I wouldn't commit suicide," he finished.  
"Then you will honor your promise. I promise you now that I won't end your life before this illness does," she solemnly swore, but his eyes were already closed.  
  
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ok then, next chapter: Rakuninmura! by the way, i have two one-shots that will be appearing on ff.net soon. one is called 'my virginity' and has nothing to do with sex or virginity. it is about the first time kenshin ever killed someone. the other is called 'creeping up on you' and was intended as a songfic, but didn't really turn out that way. it's about kenshin having a stalker, and it's rather interesting because it gives my impression of what you would think of the characters only by observing them, not knowing anything about their lives.  
  
Ginger1280: actually now its 2 chapters, but glad you like the enishi-ness. the next chapter will be from oibore's pov i think, all about rakuninmura.  
  
Amaya: thank you! it's just once per DAY per chapter? i thought it was just once per chapter period. man, the computer must me REALLY messed up! anyway, thanks for the tip.  
  
Califpinay3001: thank you! what flattery! well, as you know, flattery gets you everywhere...  
  
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: thanks! glad you like this and i'll keep it coming 


	11. Rakuninmura

I am SO SORRY this chapter is so late. There will be another on the promised Tuesday, so don't worry. quite frankly, what happened was i just forgot to write the chapter, and then it was tuesday. anyhoo, i hope this chapter is sufficiently long to kind of make up for its lateness.  
  
*note: Oibore means 'old fool'  
  
History Behind The History, Chapter 11  
  
This computer was Akitaka's best friend lately. Currently, it was processing the word 'Rakuninmura' to give him any data it could. There wasn't long to wait, and soon three links appeared on the screen. If Rakuninmura was only mentioned three times on the entire internet, maybe it wasn't as important as he'd thought. He hoped this wasn't a dead end.  
The first two links turned out to be, of course, dead ends, with just one mention of an obscure place called Rakuninmura that didn't merit much, but the third had a bit more. As he read on, he could see why it wasn't mentioned often. Not one single important thing or person had ever come from there. He had assumed Rakuninmura was a city, with people being born, dying, moving in, and moving out. The way this site told it, all they did was move in and die.  
It had been a slummy place full of bitter castoffs from society, it seems. There were people who had lost loved ones, people who'd failed in their lives' goals, and every kind of miserable unfortunate one could imagine. They were nameless, faceless, dangerous people- mostly men- and were not viewed highly by residents of nearby Tokyo.  
Only one person other than Yukishiro Enishi had ever been known to move out of Rakuninmura after being resident there. That was, ironically, the man Enishi had challenged and who'd rescued the woman he'd kidnapped. The man's name was Himura and he'd later married the girl he rescued. That must've been why Yukishiro had kidnapped her in the first place- he knew they liked each other.  
Wait a second, what was that name? HIMURA??? What were the odds that two different Himuras had wronged Yukishiro? Akitaka already knew that Himura the Battousai had killed Yukishiro's sister, to whom he was 'ferociously attached.' That would make him a prime target for the personal grudge that so consumed Yukishiro. Apparently, Battousai had survived after the war. Wouldn't one expect Yukishiro to be dead, though, after clashing with him? Even if Yukishiro somehow defeated Battousai, at least SOMEbody would be dead afterward. That meant only one thing: whichever had won had shown mercy. Battousai never lost, and Yukishiro had a seemingly consuming, non mercy-inducing hatred for him. All logic pointed to the most illogical conclusion: Battousai had shown mercy.  
  
* *  
*  
  
A nameless old man walked back into Rakuninmura at the end of the day. He never left for long, and when he did, it was usually to beg. Since none of the other residents of Rakuninmura were beggars, one might think this man was pitiful; however, this was only because none of the other residents could get anything if they begged, so he supported everyone with it. They ate when he came in with gifts from people in neighboring, legitimate towns, and not before.  
He saw a familiar-looking young boy- the second this week. Just the other day another familiar-looking young boy had left after a long time of refusing to eat or do anything. This one looked in much the same condition.  
"Hello, there, boy! Eat?" He asked. The boy didn't answer, just shook his head without looking up from staring at something he was holding in his lap. The old man sat down next to him, tired of familiar young boys who insisted on being antisocial.  
"You remind me of someone, boy," the old man said, hoping to make him talk. No luck.  
"I have a son who would be just about your age now," he continued.  
"Oh, really," the boy uttered. It wasn't a question.  
"Yes. I had a daughter, too, but she died. That's why I came here," he explained. The boy wasn't interested. "What brought you here?"  
"My brother-in-law... it's a long story," the young man replied, tipping his head back against the wall of a shack he'd been leaning on since the old man first saw him. The old man could see that the thing the boy had been staring at was a book of some sort, but what kind he couldn't tell.  
"My son had a brother-in-law, but he didn't like him much," the old man responded. They sat in semi-companionable silence until the old one asked the younger one for his name.  
"Yukishiro," the boy answered. The old man had a feeling that name should mean something to him as well, but he couldn't tell what.  
"They call me Oibore," he answered simply.  
"If you answer to it, you deserve to be called that, Oibore," the boy stated disdainfully and looked away, resolutely avoiding conversation. The old man took the hint and left to eat, but came back later with a portion for the young man.  
"Eat?" He asked again, and the boy shook his head again, still looking away. Oibore laid the bowl on the ground between them as much because he didn't feel like holding it as to invite the boy to take it. "You're too young to stay here," he observed.  
"What do you know," again, it was not a question.  
"There's no way you can be hopeless enough to stay here at your age," Oibore continued. "You've still got your life ahead of you. Whatever your brother-in-law did, I'm sure-"  
"He didn't,"  
"What?"  
"My brother-in-law didn't do anything wrong, it was an accident, but I tried to take revenge..." the boy trailed off.  
"There was another boy here awhile back, a little older than you, said his brother-in-law killed the woman he loved. Strange boy... had red hair, come to think of it. Weird kid. He finally left, though,"  
"That was my brother-in-law," the boy replied.  
"Eh?"  
"The red-haired man was my brother-in-law... it had to have been... but you must believe I didn't kill that woman. I only made him think I did," the boy explained solemnly. Oibore could tell he meant business.  
"I believe you. However you did it, that's your business, I guess. Was that your revenge?"  
"Part of it... the main part. I also destroyed a good portion of the city, but that was mainly just to make him mad enough to fight me,"  
"And he did?"  
"Yes. The irony of it is he won. I went in to punish him and ended up at his mercy. Then he had to go and leave me alive,"  
"Does that bother you?" Oibore asked, surprised.  
"I can't complain," he replied. "It just proves that e was right all along, though- not that he won, but that he didn't kill me. He really does believe in this vow he has against killing. I thought it was just some sort of charade he made himself believe, but this peaceful wanderer really is his true self. He loved my sister," the boy hung his head guiltily.  
"So you've forgiven him?"  
"Sort of. There's not really anything to forgive- it was a complete accident," he replied.  
"But there were others," Oibore pressed. The red-headed kid had acted like there was more- much more.  
"No," the boy answered, confused. "My sister... that's all I wanted revenge over,"  
"He acted like there was more,"  
"Well, he did kill others, but they were of no consequence to me. It was war, that happens,"  
"The other boy didn't feel that way. He was grieved for their deaths, said he deserved to be here but the girl was innocent. That was his only regret- the others you hurt, not himself," Oibore explained.  
"He's a fool, but not one that deserves this. Maybe I'll tell him that someday,"  
  
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i think i'm going to be ending this story soon. there will probably be at least five more chapters, but i'm not looking for anything too long here.  
  
Califpinay3001: glad it's getting good.  
  
Ginger1280: glad you like it. this is the last chapter of enishi for now, for real this time. you like x-men? so do i and guess who else? Watsuki! i was so happy when i found this out. glad i'm keeping your sanity, so sorry the others don't update. what's wrong with them, anyway, lol. glad to hear i'm on someone's favorites list!  
  
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: i did not make up rakuninmura. it is mentioned in rk, the revenge arc. ken goes there when he thinks kaoru's been killed, and enishi goes there after his fight with ken. other info is in the fic. flashback scenes might or might not be accurate, but anything akitaka finds out generally is. Amaya: glad you like it and it's keeping you in suspense. i was running out of good ideas, but i've got a really good one for the next chapter. wait and see! 


	12. Mercy?

Hello! as promised, another chapter, and a good one at that. enjoy!  
  
History behind The History, chapter 12  
  
So.  
So.  
So.  
So.  
This Himura guy... what was his deal?H The teenage assassin, champion of a supposedly selfless cause, had someone actually seek him out for a fight and then decided to show mercy? Could have used some of that earlier. Could he just not make up his mind or what? Was he a killer or wasn't he?  
That wasn't really fair, though. This event had happened much later, so maybe he'd changed his mind. Maybe he'd decided what he'd been doing was wrong and turned over a new leaf, or maybe just decided that it wasn't necessary after his cause was accomplished. Either way, he'd definitely told himself he wouldn't do it in the future.  
He'd never struck Akitaka as the merciful type, but Akitaka supposed it was possible. Maybe he'd never wanted to kill in the first place, but did it only when he felt e needed to do so. How sad. The world had enough people who killed for the heck of it, it didn't need moral people feeling compelled to do it, too.  
Had he always been like that, then? Akitaka wondered if Battousai had ever tried to get out of assassinating someone. Had he ever, say, maimed someone he could have killed? That almost seemed cruel in itself, to make the man suffer instead of putting him out of his misery, but it really was better than killing him. He could at least do some things, if not live normally. Maybe he had done it- it would be a good compromise. Himura wouldn't have to kill, and the other guy would be totally useless to his side. That sounded great when Akitaka considered the alternative.  
  
* *  
*  
  
There was a knock at the door. The small, half-hidden figure rose and opened it to find the messenger once again. Explanations were not necessary. The envelope was proffered and received, the only sound that of the door sliding closed.  
There was no use delaying the inevitable, after all, he had agreed to this for a reason. He might not have liked it, but he still did it, and had learned long ago that that was life. He tore into the paper to reveal the name of the man who would enter the Great Void that night. His fate was sealed.  
He read on, glancing over the information on how to find the target, and promptly left. He did have all night, but procrastination never got anybody anywhere. He was a man of action.  
It didn't take long to find the location the papers said the man would be most of the night, but he saw no one of the appropriate description, so he waited. This was your standard bar, full of people in various stages of drunkenness, and he could tell after juts a short look around that this was going to take awhile.  
Whenever he had to find the target in a crowded place like this, it always took awhile. It would be inexcusable to frighten all these people, and then let them tell every sake-enhanced detail to the public. That would be a very effective way of getting fired. He had to draw the person out to a deserted place before they could fight.  
He would have preferred to do this honestly, just to issue the challenge quietly and have the target follow him somewhere appropriate, however this was impractical. If he did that, the target would to one of three things. The first option was the most desirable- the target would accept the challenge and they would leave the bar like civilized people- but could not be guaranteed to happen.  
The second option was that the target, upon discovering who was challenging him, would run, and he would look more than a little suspicious if he chased the target out of the bar. The third was that the target would be frightened but keep his wits, deciding to stay right there in the bar and make trouble for the assassin. He would very likely shout, reveal the assassin's identity, refuse to leave the bar, try to involve others and possibly succeed, and a million other tiresome but effective ways to anger a hitokiri and endanger the poor drunk people sitting around the bar.  
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, none of these things had ever happened to Kenshin, so he was always successful. He had been sufficiently warmed of the sorts of things targets sometimes did to get out of being killed, and so always got his quarry.  
The target walked into the bar then, and his brain worked to find out how this man could be drawn to a secluded area. He was a large man, but otherwise unremarkable. Simply waiting for the man to leave was not an option-he'd just gotten there and would want to stay longer than the assassin would care to. He was getting impatient, and the direct approach seemed best.  
"Sir, I have business to discuss with you. Please follow me somewhere quiet," he requested simply. The man obligingly set down his drink and stood, assuming he would be back momentarily. How sad that that was just not true tonight.  
The two men made their way to a fairly well-lit alley where no one was likely to pass. Kenshin stopped walking and turned to face the other man, who was looking down at him expectantly. Accordingly, he announced his name and purpose.  
"So, you are the Battousai. It will be my honor either to kill you or to fall to such a worthy opponent," the target answered and came at him without waiting for more words. Never caught off guard, Kenshin successfully blocked the attack and threw the man's bulk away from himself.  
The man had barely gotten into battle stance again when an unflustered Battousai was upon him, very nearly impaling him before the target twisted out of the way.  
With a grunt of effort, frustration, or both, the target continued to turn and aimed for the assassin's back, only to meet metal, not flesh. The Battousai actually smirked, thinking that the man had not been wrong when he spoke of a worthy opponent. This man fought exceptionally compared to those he usually felled with one blow.  
Unlike many others, this was a goal the Battousai might actually have to chip away at, so he aimed at an important but unprotected point. Unexpectedly, the man's arm was not simply disabled for the time being, but came cleanly off. This might be over sooner than he thought. He raised his sword to finish the target, but hesitated. The man just cowered, which was funny when you pictured him cringing and trying to make himself smaller than the slight form of his assailant. This man, armless and swordless, could do nothing to keep himself alive at this point, much less fight. It would be senseless to kill him now- he was already useless, so what was the harm in letting the poor man live? He lowered his weapon, deciding that the large but now one-armed man was no longer a threat to his cause.  
"What are you waiting for?" The man asked, suddenly looking at his opponent's face instead of the wall behind him. "Do it already, don't make me suffer!"  
"I'm not going to kill you. That was my intent, but in this state you don't threaten my cause, and I won't kill you unnecessarily," Battousai explained.  
"I would rather you kill me in this state! Just as you said, I'm completely useless. What would be the point in letting me live? You already stole my chance to serve my superiors, so you might as well take my life," the target continued.  
"No. I have never, and will never kill someone unarmed and defenseless, or someone who does not need to die in order for peace to come to this country," Battousai finished and turned, refusing to listen to any more pleas for death. He just walked, deep in thought, back the way he'd come.  
  
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well, well, well, a fight scene. who knew? i didn't think there'd be any.  
  
PraiseDivineMercy: actually that's a good idea about the relatives, it hadn't occurred to me. as you can see, i did show more of his surprise about the mercy. he will be surprised often.  
  
Tomoe2Kenshin: i absolutely adore your name. anyhoo, thank you.  
  
Califpinay3001: practical? you mean realistic, or what? i'm confused.  
  
Lucrecia Levrai: muahaha... come to the dark side!  
  
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: you're welcome! sorry, but i should be back on schedule now. 


	13. Peace

Hi! Well... try not to hate me, but this story ended sorta abruptly on me, and this is the last chapter. my stories have a way of doing that. anyhoo... this is it. there won't be a sequel.  
  
guess what? an interesting little tidbit i found out today... "sano," as in sanosuke, is a word in spanish that means "healthy." i just thought that was funny.  
  
History Behind the History, chapter 13  
  
"Battousai the Pacifist," Akitaka read. He stood behind a podium in front of an impatient, prelunch crowd- his fourth period history class. It was the last day of the semester.  
"Himura is often seen as a near-indiscriminate killer of Shinsengumi, however, nothing could be further from the truth," skeptical stares came from all directions except that of Mr. Higo. He seemed quite pleased.  
"Himura did kill, and kill Shinsengumi, during the revolution, but staunchly refused to do so afterward. We can never know the true extent of Battousai's internal conflict, but it is clear that he killed only when he felt it was in the public's best interest, and in later years, refused under all circumstances.  
"You all know about as much as I do about his exploits during the war, but I want to share with you an enlightening event that happened about eleven years later. Battousai's wife- that's right, he was married, twice actually- his first wife had a brother named Yukishiro Enishi. Battousai had killed Yukishiro's sister, his own wife, during the revolution, but ironically enough, it was an accident. Yukishiro either didn't know or didn't care about that, though, and determined to wreak revenge on Himura.  
Yukishiro assembled a group of fighters, swept into Tokyo, and promptly began attacking any place or person with the remotest connection to Himura. He killed or wounded completely innocent people, and then kidnapped the woman who was to be the second Mrs. Himura, launching an elaborate scheme to make it appear as if he'd murdered her. Yukishiro, most would agree, was as deserving of death as any Shinsengumi captain, but survived a fight with Battousai.  
"Don't misunderstand me, Yukishiro didn't win. This is the Battousai we're talking about here. No one survives a fight with him unless he allows them to do so. Yukishiro, the man who kidnapped the woman Battousai loved, survived the ordeal only because Himura showed him mercy.  
"This incident points out to me that he had changed his mind- decided killing was never necessary and avoided it for the rest of his days. It has become obvious to me that Battousai the Manslayer learned how not to exist as a manslayer,"  
Akitaka finished delivering his semester paper, and it was plain on the faces of everyone in the room what grade he would be receiving.  
  
* *  
*  
  
It was dark and small fires provided the only light. He had decided already that no one would die at his hands in this battle. The war was as good as won, and they didn't need him anymore. He still fought to hold the enemy back and protect his comrades, but none of them died before his sword.  
He ran, dodged, parried, and struck, darting about to wherever there was trouble, staying only long enough to defend another, and then move on. One standing off to the side would only have caught brief, barely recognizable glimpses of him, and even then only his hair would give him away.  
He didn't mind that- he wasn't there to be seen, only to keep the Shinsengumi out of Kyoto, and he was doing a fine job of that.  
It was just then that Kenshin heard a voice he didn't recognize shout "Retreat!" The Shinsengumi were beaten and the imperialists had won. He sheathed his sword and closed his eyes, letting the pure euphoria of knowing the war was over wash over him.  
He barely saw anything as he walked slowly off the battlefield, now surrounded by celebrating Ishin Shishi. He wasn't even going back with them tonight- he would make himself disappear. Battousai the Manslayer would be no more.  
He walked out into the woods near the city and became invisible among the trees. When he was satisfied that he was sufficiently far away not to be seen or disturbed, he reverently removed the two swords he had carried for years.  
He knelt in the dark woods and prepared for what he knew he must do. He had thought in the back of his mind at some times that it must end this way, but had never officially decided until the retreat tonight had given him the peace to accept that this was proper.  
Samurai committed seppuku for different reasons, one of which was to atone for wrongdoing, and his wrongs were grievous. He had known for a time- not since the beginning, but for a time- that this was just punishment for his actions, but had not seen any other way to proceed, and so had knowingly done the wrong thing because it seemed like the only thing.  
Had he made the right choice, protecting some the only way he knew how at the expense of others? He didn't know, but murder was murder and he wouldn't excuse himself from it. If he had done well, he would die unnecessarily, but that was better than allowing himself to live if he had not.  
He lifted his wakizashi to cut into his abdomen, brought it closer, prepared to die, and closed his eyes. As he braced himself for the impending pain, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist to stay the blade.  
"Please allow me to die," he requested solemnly without opening his eyes or lifting his bowed head. The owner of the hand said nothing.  
The two sat there in a stalemate for quite some time, Kenshin refusing to give up his decision to die, the still unbeheld person in front of him refusing to give up on Kenshin's life. Finally, Kenshin relaxed his arm, signaling that he would relent, and the other person silently took the hand away, allowing Kenshin to sheathe the sword before he looked up to see only trees and twilight.  
Perhaps it had been a soldier who'd followed him, perhaps a kami or an angel, but the entity's message had been clear. More death was not the solution. He was to learn to exist in another way, a good way.  
  
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there. history behind the history is finished. i'm working on another fic, and the working title is "heart," but it might not turn out to be the title. it's about kenshin's childhood before he met hiko and a little after. it will definitely stop before the war starts, or at least before kenshin enters it.  
  
Tomoe2Kenshin: yes, i do like it. thank you, but this is the last chapter, so sorry.  
  
PraiseDivineMercy: thank you, glad i'm descriptive. i always got criticized for not enough detail when i took creative writing. i anticipated i might get reviews saying Battousai wouldn't leave someone alive, but the truth is i didn't make that scene up. it happened in the manga.  
  
Califpinay3001: thanks! hope you enjoyed the story while it lasted.  
  
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: gruesome? (i think you spelled it right by the way) i suppose it was my only fight scene in this story, but i didn't think it was that bad. it really happened in the manga- he hacked thy guy's arm off and refused to kill him. 


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